


12

by oneese



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:24:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5258972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneese/pseuds/oneese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ross just doesn’t know if this is love (but he wants it to be, oh god, he wants it to be). </p>
<p>(or<br/>some people need security in words,<br/>because actions don't always speak for themselves)</p>
            </blockquote>





	12

**Author's Note:**

> tw: none  
> (crossposted to tumblr; rly hope you guys aren't sick of me yet) 
> 
> (a short & soft story; nothing more than that really)

It’s somewhere between the fourth and eighth month that Alex starts saying it (‘I love you’). He doesn’t make it a big deal (there are no flowers leading up to the bed and no candles to light up the apartment; nothing obviously romantic), he just lets it slip out with bright eyes and an even brighter smile and so much love in his touches that Ross can’t help but believe him. 

(He doesn’t say it back).

Alex doesn’t seem to expect him to say it back either. He merely grins at him (white teeth and a straight smile, but crooked edges from grinning too wide; too much) and claps him on the shoulder, palm a heavy, warm, comforting weight against his skin. Alex will draw him, more often than not, into a bear hug after that, in which it seems like he tries to pour everything he feels (love, adoration, hope, please, please) into it.

He doesn’t urge Ross on, doesn’t say ‘come on’ (or ‘we are done’ or ‘we have been together for more than seven months’ or ‘don’t you love me too?’) and just seems to accept that Ross isn’t there yet (not ready – will he ever be ready?).

It isn’t that Ross doesn’t want to say it back (because he does, oh god, he does), but he wants to mean it when he says the words to him. He wants to be able to say the words with confidence, look Alex in the eye and show him that ‘yes, I mean this’ (and ‘no, we aren’t done yet’ and ‘we have been together for seven months and I love you’ and ‘yes, I love you too’). 

And it’s not that Ross feels nothing for Alex, because he does. He feels the fluttering of eager butterflies in his stomach every time the other smiles and if that isn’t adoration (or love, a voice tells him in the back of his mind; quiet and soft, that’s what everyone describes love as – he tries not to listen to it), he doesn’t know what is. He feels a warm feeling spread through his veins every time he wakes up next to Alex, when wakes up to an arm slung around his waist and the scratch of a beard against the side of his neck. 

He just doesn’t know if this is love (but he wants it to be, oh god, he wants it to be). 

+

Ross curls his fingers into a fist, takes a deep breath and tries to keep his breathing even.

Twelve months, Alex looks him in the eye and says it another time. There’s something off though and Ross can’t place it in the moment; right then and there (but later – when the sun has set and he lays alone in his bed – when he takes a moment to regard the memory, he’ll be able to; Alex misses the glint in his eyes and the brightness of his smile and the affection in his words). 

Ross uncurls his fingers, feels the blood rush back and tries to keep his breathing even. 

Twelve months, Alex looks him in the eye another time and asks him ‘will you say it back this time?’ (but all Ross can hear him ask is; ‘do you love me too?’ – he hears the words for what they are). 

Ross is stunned for a moment (a second that feels like a century, that it very well could have been from the way Ross feels like his entire body has turned into a statue) and his tongue feels like it has been laid in a knot, as if he has swallowed lead and cannot move anymore. 

It’s a moment of being put on the spot (a moment of not knowing how to react because your reflexes are just not that good yet and you need time, a warning beforehand perhaps) and a moment that goes too quick for Ross to answer and too slow for Alex when he needs a reply, one that matters.

Alex tells him, ‘alright then, fine,’ but it’s anything but fine. 

+

Alex goes to his own apartment that night and Ross’ heart aches for a reason he doesn’t want to know or name (but he can, knows it’s because they haven’t slept apart for weeks and weeks on end now; and it feels weird to have his whole bed to himself and the sheets feel too cold and the goose bumps along his arms prove the point). 

He locks the door behind him and finds a small comfort (almost nothing, but yet) in the fact that Alex has his own copy of his apartment key attached to his key ring (that if he wants to get in, he can – but he won’t, Ross is no fool). 

It’s a shower and then bed, Ross tells himself, but his vision is a little blurry and his limbs feel heavy. They feel heavier than they have in ages and he can barely shuffle into his bedroom before they give in. He hits the surface of his bed, feels the cold creep beneath his skin and misses– (heat, love, company; Alex).

It hits him moments later (moments that turn out to be really hours when he looks at his alarm clock), as he stares at the ceiling and is able to stretch out completely without hinder. 

This is love (or the absence of it).

+

Ross has his own spare key of Alex’ apartment and he uses it (not for the first time, maybe the last). 

He doesn’t say anything to announce his presence, just fits himself against all of Alex’ sprawled limbs where the sheets don’t touch and presses them together. 

He pushes his nose against the nape of the other’s neck and whispers words that are months overdue and they are no magic fix (but he wants them to be, oh god, he wants them to be).

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed !!
> 
> (also if anyone ever has a request, let me know !)


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